(3rd POV)
Reiko's first memory was that of white walls and needles. Of her screaming and begging and sobbing.
She never had a proper name, only a number.
Her days consisted of nothing but beatings and shouted orders, of her body aching during every waking moment. She was never given time to rest, not even in her dreams.
Her dreams were the worst.
She was afraid of closing her eyes the most. At least during the day, her mind would be occupied by the pain, forced into a state of survival, her mental faculties focused on keeping her on her feet. Falling meant another beating. When she had to sleep, that's when the fear and the nightmares would begin.
She knew only of scientists, drill instructors, and nurses. The only moments of rest she had were when her body failed, when she couldn't stand no matter how hard they disciplined her. Even then, she was forced to undergo mental training. All electric shock and impossible questions.
There were other children, but they never interacted outside of organized fights. They were always to the death. Reiko would see a boy her age for the first time ever, only to be told to kill him.
And so she did. She was still alive, which meant she'd never lost. She remembered each life she took only because it helped her keep track of time. One battle per month. One hundred and eighty battles.
180-0. Iron on iron They told her she was the magnum opus of the institute, the culmination of their philosophy, the strongest. Children had to fight each other to sharpen each other.
She was the sharpest. She knew only this. Only the count of her victories and the small respite she'd get after winning. Even those moments, she spent counting down until the next training session.
The Institute was her life. Her world. She knew of the sun, she knew of another world, but these were distant concepts. So far from the white halls and fluorescent lights of her enclosure.
With time though, thoughts of longing, of fear, of pain and misery were all subsumed into her consciousness. They were a constant that tore at the edges of her mind, fraying and wearing it down until there was nothing left.
Fear was so natural, pain was so normal, that her biological impulses short circuited and collapsed in on themselves until she could not fear anymore.
She noticed this, her trainers noticed it, they saw the girl that couldn't be shaken anymore. No matter how much they beat her, or how long they flooded her brain with adrenaline, she felt nothing.
That's when she knew that they knew that they had failed in raising her. They needed someone that would fear them. Reiko did not.
It was the summer of her nineteenth year when she first stepped foot outside her world. The feeling of the sun against her too pale skin was strange, the smell in the air even stranger. The smell of grass and of daisies and blood.
Her clothes were soaked in blood, but she didn't care. She was free.
That day was a day of firsts. The feeling of grass between her toes, the first sunset, her first meal.
She thought it wonderful, yet incredibly dull. It was all so new, but her senses were all but frayed. She could recognize the beauty, could understand the novelty, but it all provoked nothing within her.
She had no frame of reference. She couldn't understand any of it, barely thinking anything of it.
It was only on her first time riding the train that she realized she was not human.
It was a small, regional line, the train car mostly empty. She had discarded her bloodied clothes and stole a flowery sundress, the type she'd seen in movies they'd allowed her to watch and always wanted to try. It wasn't comfortable.
Her stark white hair was cut short as it always had been, almost in a crew cut. It caught the attention of a small boy and his mother.
The boy pointed at Reiko, dragging his mother along the empty train car. It rattled as Reiko watched them come close.
"Mom! Mom!" the boy said, the biggest smile on his face. "Isn't her hair so cool? She's so pretty!"
His mother gave Reiko a small smile. "I'm sorry about my son, he's so energetic these days."
Reiko could say nothing, her face impassive.
The boy broke free of his mother's grasp, running up to where she sat. "What's your name? Do you want to be friends?"
"Kazuo!" His mother called after him, but the boy didn't care.
He flashed Reiko a toothy grin. "Please?"
His mother grabbed at his shoulders, standing over him. "I'm so sorry about this."
Reiko couldn't even hear her. She was focused on the way the boy smiled, the way his eyes squinted. She'd never seen anything like it, but she knew. She knew this is what people did when they were happy.
She'd never smiled, and so she was never happy. Maybe if she tried, she could be happy too.
She locked eyes with the boy. His eyes widened.
It took her a few moments to figure out what muscles she needed for the movement. When she did, her lips quirked, her eyes squinted. She gave him a smile.
Reiko didn't know what to expect. She'd never had such an interaction.
What she didn't expect was that the boy's face would drop, his smile vanishing. He took a step back. "T-that's scary!"
He turned, pushing his head against his mother. His shoulders moved as he cried. Reiko understood that, at least.
She'd never smiled, but she had cried. She'd cried until she had no tears left to give. She'd cried when they beat her, when they made her kneel over needles.
How had she made him cry? She didn't do any of those things? She only tried to smile. Humans smile. It makes them happy.
But her smile made them scared. It was a simple conclusion. At nineteen years of age Reiko realized she wasn't human.
She looked like one, but she wasn't.
The child's mother looked at her expression and visibly shuddered before pulling her crying son away.
Reiko was left there, with that expression on her face and the realization that there was something wrong with her.
*
Reiko shook her head as she lit another cigarette, walking around the neighborhood as her protege fought for his life. She didn't like remembering that. It was nearly a decade ago now.
She'd learned how to smile, how to appear human. Her sister (the woman who took her in off the streets) taught her that people don't smile to be happy, they smile when they're happy.
Reiko never smiled because she was happy. She could laugh, but she doubted she'd ever be able to feel human. Not after all she'd done.
After a good thirty minutes of walking around, Reiko returned to the scene. She'd organized this as a test for the boy, just as she'd been tested before. But she didn't make him kill the men. She wouldn't tell him to kill.
She didn't think she could.
The assailants had been part of a crew that tried to double cross her during a job, making the target privy to her plans and letting them get away. She'd repaid the crew in kind, culling one half, leashing the others.
They hung on her every word, never daring to disobey. They were perfect. She'd only asked them to procure an abandoned store property and to try to beat an immortal boy.
She fully expected them to win, or to find the building gone, blown to smithereens. Either way, he'd fail the test. He could regenerate, sure, he was strong, sure, he was even a genius. But the test she gave him, to control himself and defeat six thugs triple his age?
Impossible for a child.
She'd console him, maybe give him a break from his dummy duties. Reiko could feel her quirk getting stronger, so strong that after a few months of using him, she felt it had reached the limit of how strong it would get with this current setup.
She could cut through flesh exponentially more efficiently now, even dicing right through reinforcement quirks on one of her jobs. Continuing to cut this child for incremental benefit felt like a waste. He could be even stronger.
Reiko taught him well, but no matter how well you teach a child, they have limits. She knew that all too well.
He'd make a mistake, burn out his regeneration, take a hit that knocks him out. Forget how to control himself.
But when she rounded the corner, she saw him, and her breath caught. That small, young boy with dark purple hair.
The white shirt Reiko bought him was in tatters, blood soaking through it. And yet, he was the one standing, not her crew of dogs.
She watched him from afar as he dragged the crew of six men, finding the sight of the small boy dragging bodies twice his size ridiculous. He arranged them in a row, propping them outside the building as if displaying his achievements.
Reiko finally rounded the corner and approached.
The boy's face lit up, and she saw his usual mischief playing across his face, in his eyes.
He made a grand, sweeping motion, gesturing to the incapacitated men. "Are you not entertained?" He said, laughter in his eyes. Such an unusual child. Reiko could recognize the hate within him as if he exhaled it with each breath, but he also recognized his mirth. His cheer.
When the boy saw Reiko saying nothing, he gave her an exaggerated bow.
"I hope you're satisfied, auntie," he said sarcastically.
Reiko smiled. She couldn't believe it. The boy straightened, only looking at her.
"What's your name, little man?" She said with a smile.
The boy's face darkened, emotions warring across his face. She recognized them. Disgust, a deep hatred engraved over his heart, but she also saw how his eyes lit up for an instant.
He tilted his head, laughing. "You don't know your own nephew's name? How tragic! Well, I don't know yours either."
Reiko laughed. "You may call me Reiko, nephew."
"Then you may call me Reze, auntie."
Reiko walked over to the string of her passed out crew. "You didn't kill them, impressive."
"Had a few tricks left," he said, standing next to her. He was so small. "Why'd you lie and tell them we're related?"
"I hate explaining complicated things."
Reze shrugged. "Even thinking of sharing genes with you sends shivers down my spine. But whatever, I guess."
"Please, you wish you had my looks."
He scoffed. "I'd rather be ugly as sin than be related to the devil. You know what this guy said?" He nudged the old man with his foot, laughing. "That we're alike. Can you believe it? Alike?"
Reiko paused, then also laughed. "Maybe in some ways."
"I'd literally rather be nailed to a cross."
"That's so mean! I'll make you into mince!"
Reze's hand flew to his neck in a moment of pretend tension. "Try it."
"Ice cream?" Reiko said.
Reze's hand fell to his side. He sighed. "I hate ice cream."
"What do kids even like?"
"Leases to buildings," he said, looking at the empty property he'd just fought over. "And maybe a steak dinner."
Reiko looked at her watch, then to the lined up thugs. "Steak dinner it is. Guess you've earned it."
"And the lease?"
"It's ours."
"You mean mine."
Reiko put her hand on his head, shoving him forward. His hair was getting long, he'd need a haircut. "Ours, little rat."
"I didn't take you for someone who believes in collective property."
"Shut up or I'm confiscating the dinner."
Reze shuddered. "Whatever."
"Good boy."
They walked away from the building, the crew still passed out just outside, lined up neatly.
Problems for later.
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A/N: Yay! We reached 100 powestones, so I'm gonna keep my word and release two chapters today. This one is the first, next one is gonna come out in a couple of hours.
Also, I SWEAR some MHA canon stuff is gonna happen soon. I just like writing about these two more than I thought I would.